


the new game

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Dad John, Dad Sherlock, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Parentlock, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock is a Good Parent, cute I guess, rosie's cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23671819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: an old work from *pukes* wattpad *gags* but i reread it and remembered how cute it was so it's getting a new home here!takes place six months after mary's death, basically if John had moved back to Baker Street.
Relationships: Mary Morstan/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson & Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Sherlock Holmes & Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, the boys & Mrs. Hudson
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

If you asked John Watson a year, two, or three years ago and asked him who he would be spending the rest of his life with. He would have said Mary Watson, his beautiful wife, and Rosie, his beautiful daughter. But one night in an aquarium changed his whole life. His wife was shot and killed, leaving him behind. That night Sherlock asked him to stay with him at Baker Street. He accepted his offer to move back into his old flat. Sherlock assured him that he would help with Rosie. 

And that night the flat was filled with a crib, toys, a baby, and a crying John. Sherlock sat next to him and held him, comforting him as he cried for someone that he loved. It was almost like 3 years ago, how Mary held him when he was grieving someone else that he loved. And for the first time in years, Sherlock kissed him. Like a lock was opened, and the key was Sherlock's lips. It brought new and old feeling to the flat when John asked, "Do you still-" Sherlock nodded. He asked the same question and received another kiss from John.

"But, i can't now. Not yet. i'm sorry Sherlock." Sherlock squeezed him tight.

"No need, i'm here when you're ready."

\--

It's been six months. six months since John watched Mary die in front of him. 6 months since Sherlock kissed him for the first time in years. Six months ago their lives changed.

two months. two months ago John told Sherlock two words. "I'm Ready." He said that and it changed their lives for the second time. He had come to terms with everything. Mary was gone. He couldn't spend his whole life mourning, he had to move on. This was him moving on.   
  
  


"Morning love." Sherlock said kissing his boyfriend's forehead as to avoid his horrid morning breath. Somehow during the night Sherlock and John entangled themselves in a heap of blankets. That night they had awoken twice, once John got up to change Rosie's diaper, and the second Sherlock fed her. All in all a good nights sleep of about four hours. The sound of Rosie gurgling in her crib made them flinch as they waited for her to start screaming, but the sound never came. Thank God.

"How was Rosie last night?" John asked.

"She was good, screamed her head off while i made the bottle." John rolled his eyes and replied. 

"Yeah i kind of heard that." Sherlock got out of the bed, putting on his bathrobe. John followed him. He went straight to Rosie's bedroom and marveled at her most recent talent. Grabbing on the crib. She stands up and grabs at the crib. Sherlock grabbed her up out of the crib, the child flailing her arms playfully about.

"Could you be civilized dear Rosamund." The sound of John snort-laughing caused the curly haired man to snap his face around and give him a look. John went to Rosie's closet and grabbed a dress for her to wear. He handed it to Sherlock after he had the child undressed.

It took a while for Sherlock to learn how to dress a baby girl, despite him being a fast learner on everything else. He put the little dress on her and carried her back to the kitchen. Putting her in the high chair, John swiftly followed with a can of baby food to avoid the imminent screaming of the baby. Sherlock opened it and began to spoon feed her the mashed up apples. A knock at the door was followed by Mrs. Hudson letting herself in.

"Good Morning Boys, and good morning Rosie." She came over to her and pinched at Rosie's cheeks. Mrs Hudson is quite the loving grandma to her. She brought the newspaper and some tea for us.

"How are you boys, did you sleep any last night?" John just laughed. Mrs Hudson was playing with the little plastic flower. Sherlock picked her up out of the highchair and put her down, she immediately began crawling. She's been doing this for about a month now and it terrifies the heck out of the two. She's just everywhere, and it's really a nuisance when they have a client in the room and there is a baby just crawling around. It's caused us a couple of cases.

"Oh flower, you are faster than papa!" Sherlock said to Rosie as she crawled away from him. Sherlock chased her around the lounge and picked her up, the child giggling.

"thank you for the tea Mrs. Hudson. I hope we have some cases come in today." John said.

"do you want me to watch Rosie for you? i can get her out of the way."

"We will be fine Mrs. Hudson, thank you." Sherlock replied bouncing the baby he's holding. They've gotten used to her being there while they were interviewing potential clients. They had established a rule of 'no bringing Rosie to crime scenes' but that didn't always work out. There was the time where they were investigating a case that Lestrade showed us where the owner of a Chinese restaurant was found dead in a plate of noodles. Unfortunately Mrs Hudson was out of town and Molly was hard at work. It ended up being the weirdest crime scene ever. Sherlock with a baby strapped to his chest, deducing everything. Perhaps Rosie will enjoy going to crime scenes when she is older.

Mrs. Hudson left with the door still open. John opened the fridge, "Sherlock I told you no fingers by the baby food."

"It's for an experiment dear, I'm doing science." Sherlock found his way over to John and wrapped his skinny arms around his boyfriend's waist, following his statement with a kiss on the cheek. John, unlike Sherlock, had dressed himself for work. He had his usual button down and slacks. Dr. John Watson, ready for a day at the clinic. The blond man looked at his watch and nearly burst as he realized the time

"I have to go love, bye Rosie daddy loves you" he kissed his boyfriend on the lips and daughter on the forehead before he left the flat in a hurry.

"Well it's just you and me today little Rosamund." He picked her up and put her in the Pak and play while he put away her breakfast. While he was cleaning off the table, he saw the note that John had left him. 

'Go to Asda, buy milk, diapers, apples, coffee, tea, and toilet paper. -xo John' 

"Rosie! We're going on an adventure today." He finished cleaning and headed for his and John's bedroom to get dressed. Normal Sherlock Holmes attire, Navy Shirt and coat. He grabbed Rosie's little coat and shoes and his tote bag for groceries. Sherlock picked up Rosie and put on her boots and coat. 

One thing about parenting that Sherlock could never get a hang of were strollers. He could never get it to pop out the right way or get the straps on right. Despite his efforts he grabbed the item out of the closet and fiddled with it for a couple minutes before it finally was unfurled enough to put the child in. He lifted her up and put her in the carriage and gave her some toys. John insists that she should be facing the person that's walking her, so the convertible pram is usually in the carriage position. i layed her there with her two favorite plushes, jelly fish and a brain cell plush. I'm sure you can guess who gave her the latter. She loves it nonetheless. The brunette put a blanket over the child, turned off the lights, flipped up his coat collar, and headed out the door, not forgetting John's adorable shopping list. 

"Off we go little one. We're going to the store, don't tell you're daddy but we have another stop after that." Sherlock snickered to himself as he walked to the store. 

Sherlock and his business partner's 'secret field trip' could just be summed up with 'nap time' for Rosie, and 'corpse time' for Sherlock. They were at the hospital, and Sherlock was doing- god knows what with a recently deceased young man. Thankfully Rosie was sleeping in her carriage, cuddling her little brain cell. Molly was looking into her pram and making little noises at the child. 

"Molly could you please be professional, i am trying to whip this nice young man. could you stop talking to the sleeping infant." 

"She's not exactly an infant anymore, she's seven months old and can crawl everywhere. i don't believe that she is a newborn." Sherlock looked at the child and continued his strange practices to the deceased. He was almost done with his recent project when a certain someone began to cry. 

"Oh Rosamund what's wrong now? Can't you be like any normal human and express your wants instead of wailing." He picked her up out of the pram and rocked her, checking his watch. He realized that it was time for Rosie's lunch. Under the stroller was a small cooler with a bottle in it. Sherlock sat down on the cold floor of the hospital and fed her. Few things can pull at Sherlock Holmes's heartstrings as when Rosie clings to her bottle when it is being fed to her. Molly secretly took a photo on her mobile of Sherlock and the baby. 

"Molly Hooper please do not send that photo to John. i promised him i would stay home all day, and this would corrupt my alibi." Molly just laughed, Sherlock's own phone rang. It was from John, a video call. He answered but at the least revealing angle possible. He couldn't break this. He was at home. Feeding Rosie. Up to nothing in particular at all.

"Oh Hello John. Do you need anything? i thought you were working." 

"lunch break. How's my Rosie?" 

"Oh she's good, just having a bottle. I love when she grabs it." 

"I do too. Are you at home?"

"yes. isn't that right Rosamund." 

"i know you aren't and i won't fight that. just. Don't expose her to corpse germs, she's a baby." 

"I love you." Sherlock cood at the camera. 

"I love you too." He replied in the same sing songy voice. i waved goodbye to him and hung up. Rosie had finished her bottle, so he proceeded to burp her and place her back in the pram. 

"i'm sorry Molly but we must be getting home, goodbye." He took the stroller and took off to home. he didn't hail a cab or take the tube, preferring the walking this time. Rosie was quite the happy girl during their walk, gurgling and making noise. She hadn't said her first words yet and in Sherlock's opinion, he would rather have John hear them, as he is her real father. 

They arrived at Baker Street around 3 PM. John will most definitely not be home yet. Sherlock found the door open, Mrs. Hudson probably letting herself in again. Sherlock took the child out of the pram and out of her warm clothes and onto the floor, putting the stroller away after that. The curly haired man walked over to the kitchen to get his coffee, properly cold by now, and instead was greeted by his boyfriend. 

"Hello Sweetie. How was your little outing? Did you go to the park? Oh Rosie loves the park." Sherlock was grimacing at the man before him.

"We went on a lovely adventure to the morgue, lovely place to take m-your child." 

"Sherlock we need to talk." 

"About what?" He was worried that John would be angry about his and Rosie's recent outings. 

"I heard you this morning. you called yourself papa in front of Rosie. And just now." _oh._

"John i'm very sorry. I know she is your daughter, and not mine. it was by complete accident-"  
  
"Sherlock. i'm truly flattered that you love us so much that you see my daughter as your own. I've been thinking, i want you to become a second legal guardian to her." Sherlock was shocked, this was like when he asked him to be his best man, but asking to be the co-parent of his child. 

"How do you..um..go about doing that?" Sherlock asked hesitantly.

"Paperwork. you would love it." John said, pulling up his laptop. 

"So legally..i would be..."

"Her dad." John finished. 

"Sherlock, i love you. When you came back, i didn't know what to do. 3 years ago i bought a ring. i'm not going to propose to you right now, but one day i will. I'm telling you that i want to spend the rest of my life with you, and that includes Rosie. I want you to be able to sign her school papers, and for her to call you Dada. Instead of proposing to marry you, i'm proposing for you to be her parent." Sherlock was almost in tears, despite everyone saying that he is and emotionless person. 

"Of course John, i love you and Rosie to the ends of the earth." He sat down with the paperwork and began to fill it out, done in record time, and mailing them to the courthouse. By Monday, Sherlock would be a legal parent of Rosie Watson. 

Sherlock picked up Rosie and faced her towards John saying, "Rosie who is this?" She thought for a moment before saying.

"Dada!" John's eyes sparkled with happy tears. 

"And who is this, Flower?" John asked, pointing to Sherlock.

"Papa!" 


	2. Chapter 2

Images flashed through John's mind in his sleep, he was dreaming, but not the good kind. The image of Sherlock falling off the roof of Bart's Hospital, Sherlock in hospital after being shot, and when the ambulance took him away a week later. At the time John didn't know it, but he was sweating, crying, and tossing. Sherlock awoke to the sound of the man next to him tossing in bed. Sherlock started shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. He yelled his name and his eyes flashed open, pupils dilated. He found himself in Sherlock's arms, still sweating and crying.

"John, i'm sorry. I did this to you." Sherlock said, running his hands through John's hair.

"i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. I love you so much John." he kissed his cheeks and face.

"No, i'm sorry. I gave up on you. I gave up and married Mary. I wanted you, but i couldn't-" Sherlock interrupted him with a kiss. 

"You didn't give up on me." He kissed him again, only interrupted by the sound of a baby crying. They both got up, going to her nursery to see what was wrong. She obviously needed a feeding, based on the time. Sherlock went to make a bottle for her. When he came back John was holding her, rocking her. She was quieter now, the screaming dialed down a bit. he handed his boyfriend the bottle and he began to feed it to her. She clung to the bottle with her little hands, John looking into the eyes of his own flesh and blood.

"You can tell, that you are her father of course." Sherlock said, leaning against the open door frame.

"You are her father too, she will only know you as that. And in the eyes of the British Government, you are."

"John you have me mistaken, you are her father, i am her papa. You created her, she is your flesh and blood. I'm just the other man."

"You will never be the other man. you are her father as i am her father. If you ask her who you are she will reply-"

"Papa!" She cooed, after being fed and burped. The baby reached out to Sherlock and he on impulse picked her up. Cradling her in his arms, shushing her.

"There's no use putting her back to sleep, she is extremely energetic now." Sherlock looked down to the bright eyed child kicking her legs.

"Oh flower. you want to run. Go run." He put the child on the floor and she speed-crawled away.

"I'll give her twenty minutes." You could hear her babbling throughout the flat, her developing communication skills apparent. The sounds of Dada and Papa echoing. Sherlock had his dressing gown on, and John's clothes sloppily put on. Sherlock's long satin robe billowed behind him as he walked into the living room to drink his tea. He had no plan on getting dressed that morning, despite plans to meet a client. They were coming to baker street after all, there was no use getting all dressed up.

"Abababababa dadadada papa!"

"Is that so flower?"

"babababa dadadadada papapapap." The baby continued her babbling.

"Do you think that you can solve the crime Rosamund?"

"yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes." Sherlock picked her up and had her at his hip.

"So Rosamund, how did he murder the bride?"

"ababababaaba"

"I did not think of that, thank you flower." He kissed the girls cheek, blowing on it causing a silly noise to emit. Rosie burst into laughter. 

"Sher, do you want to do her hair?" John presented the confused man with a tiny comb and various bows. The curly haired man hesitantly accepted. He took the comb in his hand and swept the hair up into two chunks of curly hair. 

"John, despite my many talents as a detective, i am not the best at doing hair." Sherlock told his boyfriend, who was watching this go down and laughing. 

"you've got quite the mop yourself, Shezza." 

"Don't call me that." he said as he continued to comb Rosie's blond curly hair. It was one of her features that oddly resembled Sherlock, but also Mary. She has those curls. the ones that create the mop atop the head, that John loves to pester Sherlock about. He took the little pig tails and tied them up and put the pink bow on it. He did the same with the other, creating the cute little piggy tails on top of her head. 

"Beautiful, just like your daddy." He kissed the top of Rosie's head and put her down just as the client walked through the door. 

"Hello, please come in." There was a frail woman, with a short pixie cut and pants so tight that they exposed how skinny she had become. 

"Miss, Lewinsky was it? Please take a seat. "

"Mrs. Lewinsky. Thank you Mr. Holmes for hearing me." This woman, Adrianna Lewinsky, was about to marry her wife, Leandra, when she doubled over dead on their wedding day. Everyone assumed that it was some sort of seizure or heart attack, but upon further inspection, her wrist had been slit, covered by her thick gloves. Suicide, perhaps, but she was right handed and her slitting her right wrist was unlikely. Also, her radial artery had been cut and there would not have been time for her to cut herself before the wedding had started and live that long. 

"Should i tell you what i saw? Or what happened?"

"Tell me about your wife, Leandra. What was she like? What were her friends like?" 

"If you are asking me if she was depressed enough to take her own life, she was a very happy woman. She was in a happy relationship, and never expressed any feelings of depression. She did not take her own life Mr. Holmes." John offered her a tissue, which she used to wipe the tears that were streaming from her eyes. 

Rosie began to climb up her papa's leg. He scooped her up to his lap, perhaps she could comfort the grieving woman. The baby of course, and not Sherlock Holmes. Comfort was not his greatest talent. 

"Well i understand that she did not commit suicide, it is quite idiotic of the police to assume so. I believe with almost certainty that your wife was murdered. Well, late Fiancee, you never did sign the marriage certificate and you did not ever put a ring on Leandra Mint's finger. You were never married, and someone wanted to keep it that way. oh please don't cry again." John gave another tissue. Sherlock entered his mind palace, and having witnessed a wedding he knew the exact motions of the ceremony and who would be touching the bride and groom. Or in this case Bride and Bride. 

"Who officiated your wedding." Sherlock asked the woman.

"It was my childhood priest. He actually accepted to do the wedding. Surprisingly."

"Ah. I believe i know who did it." 

"You do? Who killed my wif- fiancee?" 

"The priest did. He had a small blade hidden in his vestments, during the mass he shook your fiancee's hand and had a small cut that slowly drained into the thick sleeves and gloves of her wedding dress." John was patting the woman's shoulder. 

"I'm very sorry, Sherlock i'll call Lestrade." He nodded as John picked up the phone. 

"So that's it now." She said, the facts presented to her just now coming to mind. Sherlock nodded. John called Lestrade and informed him to arrest the priest. 

"I'll see myself out." She said, shaking the boy's hands and leaving.

"Another case solved, Rosie. You cracked it right open." She smiled, her little blue eyes glistening. 

"I have the day off, and our client is gone do you want to go to the park with Rosie?" John asked his love, who was holding their child. 

"sure, Rosie do you want to go to the park?" She said yes in her little baby voice. Rosie just turned 9 months, the eight month anniversary of Mary's passing. Their worst nightmare was coming soon, not just them having a one year old baby, but one that is walking. According to the parenting books that Sherlock read in preparation for the baby he learned that they start walking at anytime between 9 and 18 months. It could happen at any time now. 

John began to dress his child, a cute little play dress and coat. Her little trainer shoes were put on, and the men's coats were equipped. Sherlock took the baby and insisted that John unfurl the stroller. He did it, to Sherlock's surprise, in seconds. They put the child in the stroller and took off to the park. 

The London weather was for once pleasant, and made for a nice stroll down baker street. Rosie was facing the men while playing with her jelly fish. She was babbling, and even got some new words in there. She began to say words like hap which isn't exactly a word, but to a nine month old it is. 

"Here's the park Flower. Do you want to play on the slide?" She reached for John to get her out of the pram, which he did. He stood her up, and helped her walk while she held onto his hands. Sherlock walked over to the slide and motioned for his little girl to come over to him. When John let go she managed to toddle a little before falling. 

"You're getting there sweetie. Just a time now and you will be walking." Sherlock said to her as he picked her up and dusted off the mulch. He carried her to the slide and put her up on the top. 

"Come on now Rosie. Go down the slide!" John said, he helped her slide down and Sherlock caught her. The girl was giggling, her eyes squinted. Sherlock had her at his hip, and in that moment he realized something. She was his daughter. Rosie may not come from his blood, but she will be raised by him. Him and the person he loves, John Watson. He was holding his daughter, not just in the eyes of the law, but in the eyes of himself. 


	3. Chapter 3

They were sitting in the lounge, Rosie on Sherlock's lap, John in his chair, and Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen. The youngest of the four was playing with her toys, giggling. She looked up at Sherlock and patted his face with her elephant toy. Mrs. Hudson brought tea to the boys, stopping to pick up Rosie for a quick cuddle. 

"Oh Rosie, you are a happy girl this morning!" She bounced her up and down, graduating to tossing moments later. The landlady observed the child who was still dressed in pajamas, much to her disapproval. The clothes were dirty and needed a good clean, much less Rosie to be dressed in day clothes. She took Rosie into John's room where her crib was and dressed her in a play dress. Far cleaner than the sleeping onesie that previously clothed her. Mrs. Hudson brought her back in. 

"Leave it to me to dress your child. I am like a third parent to Rosie. Don't mistake me, I am the happiest third parent in the world." Mrs. Hudson remarked, beginning to do the girl's hair. She loved to do Rosie's hair, putting her little blond curls in various styles. Today she put in a large pink bow. 

"You are a wonderful third parent, Mrs. Hudson." She beamed at John's comment. She put the baby down onto the floor. She got up and toddled away. Sherlock stood up, walking around with Rosie. He took her tiny hands into his own, guiding his daughter around the flat. 

"You are quite a good teacher, dear. She is walking like a pro now." John said, admiring his boyfriend and daughter. 

"I wouldn't quite say a pro yet. Only when she has a nice grip on one of her dadas." Sherlock replied, monotone as usual. He continued walking with Rosie, keeping his grip on her. She loves to walk with Sherlock. She latches onto his calloused hands and walks. 

"You are doing so well Rosie!" Sherlock Said to her. She smiled and gurgled some words out. Sherlock let go of her hands. She took a few independent steps before falling on her bottom. Sherlock picked her up and carried her back over to the chairs. John stood up and received his daughter from his boyfriend. He hugged her tightly. 

"Molly is going to come over and watch Rosie while we are on a case," Sherlock said. He and John had to go out to a crime scene. Sherlock considers this a 'romantic date.' Molly has wanted to babysit for a while, and today she is off work. 

"I'm sure she will do a better job with Rosie than Mycroft." John was, of course, referring to 'the incident' 

If you at home are wondering what 'the incident' was, an explanation is needed. 

A month ago, Sherlock and John were in desperate need of a date night. They wanted to go to dinner without a baby. They tried calling Molly and Mrs. Hudson but with no avail. They are both busy. 

"We are going to have to do it." 

"Absolutely not." 

"Sherlock It is the only way we can go on a date." 

"Please John. Don't" 

"I have to." Sherlock's boyfriend said, dialing his phone. Sherlock was afraid of the inevitable. The inevitable being Sherlock's brother babysitting Rosie. John held his phone up to his ear. Sherlock pulled it back down and turned on the speakerphone. 

"Hello, Mycroft," Sherlock said into the phone. 

"Sherlock. Why are you calling me from John's phone?" 

"Oh hello yes I'm here," John said, entering the conversation.

"Well, then why are you calling me?" 

"Are you free tonight?" Sherlock said. 

"Brother you know that I am always free, but this is worrying me." 

"We need you to babysit Rosie." 

"What. Sherlock, why would I do that?" 

"Because we are going out on a date, and we need a babysitter." 

"Sherlock, I am a terrible babysitter. There was one time when you were a baby that Mother wanted to me to watch you. I will summarize by saying that I left you in your crib alone for hours. And you trust me with John's daughter?" He said, almost laughing at the end. 

"Mycroft it will only be a couple of hours. All you have to do is put her to bed." 

"I accept your challenge brother, but if it doesn't end well it is not my fault." He hung up. 

To make a long story short, Mycroft arrived and tried to put Rosie to bed. He told them later about how he rocked her, told her a story, and even sang to her. The one thing that he didn't try is Rosie's lovie. He resorted to putting her in her crib awake. Sherlock and John not only don't put her to bed awake but don't put her to bed without her lovie. When Sherlock and John returned almost a full hour later Mycroft was sitting in the corner of the lounge with headphones over his ears. The boys heard the sound of Rosie screaming. 

"Mycroft. What did you do?" Sherlock asked. 

"I tried to put her to sleep, but she will not stop crying." He replied. Sherlock scanned the room and found the item that he knew caused all their problems. He saw her brain stem plush. 

"We forgot to tell him," John said. 

"Forgot to tell me what?" John and Sherlock picked up the Lovie and took it to the nursery. The moment she had it in her arms the cries soothed. 

And that is what the trio refers to as 'the incident'. 

"Thank god Mycroft isn't babysitting again," Sherlock said, caring about Rosie too much to have his brother take care of her again. John silently agreed to this. They had a couple of minutes before Molly was coming to the flat. John was holding Rosie while his boyfriend retrieved his coat and scarf. He came back into the room with his scarf around his neck, untied. John put Rosie down. The active child took advantage of this and began to crawl around 221b. Sherlock came closer to John who began to tie his scarf sensually. Sherlock placed a lasting kiss on the doctor's neck. John shuddered, continuing to tie the scarf ever so slowly. Sherlock continued to kiss his boyfriend's neck, knowing how it affected him. 

"If you keep doing that, I will never get this tied." He said through gritted teeth, trying not to show his pleasure. Sherlock did not stop. John somehow managed to tie the scarf and back away from the very bitey man who was attached to his neck. 

"Dear, if you keep doing that someone will notice the marks," John said, following by pressing a chaste kiss to the curly-headed man's lips. While their lips were connected Sherlock said, "Molly" John broke the kiss, straightened his collar and waited a couple of seconds before Molly entered the flat with one knock on the door. 

"Hello, Molly." Sherlock greeted. 

"Hello, boys, and hello Rosie!" She said, her voice perking up at the latter end of the sentence. She reached down on the floor and picked up Rosie. The baby showed Molly the toy she was holding while babbling incessantly. 

"She is getting so big. I hope you have fun at your crime scene." She said. Sherlock grabbed his crime scene kit filled with to the brim with tools. John kissed Rosie on the forehead saying I love you and some parting words. The boys were just about to head out before Molly interrupted. 

"Oh John-" 

"Yes?" 

"You have a hickey." 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: homophobia from a stranger

"I can't believe that she is almost a year old," John said to Sherlock. They were discussing the quickly approaching birthday. John is what you would call, in denial. Rosie, on the other hand, is spending her days running throughout the apartment with Sherlock right behind her. Mrs. Hudson is also in denial. Sherlock is suprisingly okay with it and has been a big help in the birthday party planning.

"Well, you have to accept it at some point. She is going to get older, John." Sherlock said, rolling over onto his elbows. John was laying on his back, arms extended.

"I know, but it feels like just yesterday she was born." John reached his arms out to cuddle his boyfriend. Sherlock rolled into his arms. John kissed him on the cheek gently. He kept on kissing the side of his face.

"How do you feel about more kids?" Sherlock said. John found this comment quite sudden.

"I don't mean right away, but I wanted to know what you think about having another in the coming years," Sherlock added, making his statement more clear. John thought for a moment.

"Love, you don't need to be a doctor to know that if we have a child it won't have both of our genes." He said Sherlock, rolled his eyes.

"Well, I do know that," Sherlock said.

"But at some point, I do want Rosie to have a little brother or sister, so your answer is yes," John said, kissing him on the lips not minding the morning breath on their lips. Sherlock had been thinking about another child for some time now. It wasn't just the desire to have a child of his own, but more the desire to raise a family with John. They have been together for 5 months. 5 months isn't the right amount of time to marry a widow, but they both know that one day they will get married. This is, for many reasons, the wrong time to discuss how they will have another child. They would obviously need a surrogate, most likely someone that they know. A couple of names flashed through the tall man's mind, shaking away the one he saw the most.

"I love you, John." Sherlock said, giving a kiss. John replied in a heartfelt voice, given how early it is.

"I love you too." John said. Sherlock stayed in his arms for as long as he could. But things are different. So many years ago, before Sherlock hid for two years, they would do this all morning. They would cuddle and exchange light, romantic kisses. It was John's way of stopping Sherlock form doing his methods of feeding the fire even when he doesn't have a case. He would hide his drugs and keep him in bed.

"I will do anything for you." He would say. He would say it over and over again. He said that he would say it until Sherlock believed it. Then he stood up on a roof and jumped. For all John knew he was dead. Sherlock Holmes was dead. He moved on with his life. Their relationship was never public, so it was easy to erase it. But there was one difference, John Watson is not Sherlock Holmes. He cannot erase things fully from his mind. In the deepest corners of his mind he remembered. When he met Mary he thought that his problems were solved. He did love her. He loved Mary the same way that he loved Sherlock. This played games with his head, how could he love this woman the same way he loved the man he watched take his life.

So when he showed up one night his heart sank. He had just found himself forgetting how much he loved Sherlock. He moved that out of his mind in place of Mary. He was about to propose when he saw those eyes. He fell back in time, to two years ago. The oceans of Sherlock's eyes engulfed him and he drowned. But he made a choice, he loved Mary. He was going to marry her, and he did. Sherlock was the best man at a wedding John never thought that Sherlock would attend. He had a baby with Mary, a baby that he was raising with Sherlock bleeding Holmes.

"I love you so much, Sherlock." John said again.

"I wuv you too!" A smaller voice said. Sherlock pulled the covers up to see their little girl, escaped from the crib.

"Now how did you get out, little Watson?" Sherlock said, picking her up.

" magic!" Rosie said. This made both of her dads laugh.

"Oh little one, magic isn't real. You just climbed out of there, little escapist." Sherlock said, passing her to John. He began tickling her manically. Rosie of course began giggling like an idiot.

"Rosie, Dear we have to make invitations for your birthday party!" She started clapping and crawling out of the bed. Both of the boys followed behind. Sherlock threw on his shirt and pants, followed by a dressing gown. John did the same, covering his red pants with his standard clothes.

They sat down at the table, John pulling the paper and space crafting supplies out of the closet. He sat them down. Sherlock initially folded the papers four ways. He made a stack of these that John wrote, "You're Invited!" on the top of the papers. He also wrote in their address and Rosie's name. The invitation read,

You are invited to Rosie Watson's first birthday

begins at 11 AM on the 4th of April at 221B Baker St.

Once John finished the writing it went on to the decorating phase. Rosie put glitter on them, Sherlock drew flowers and bumblebees, and John did the most boring job of addressing the envelopes. He put the names of their closest friends and family. They invited Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, Mycroft, Wiggins, Harry, and Sherlock's parents since they are in town.

"Sherlock I thought we agreed not to invite your druggie friend!" John semi shouted.

"Bill is a profound chemist that occasionally dabbles in narcotics. I trusted him with Mary on Christmas." John nodded and finished addressing the invitation. Rosie poured what seemed like the whole pot of glitter on an invitation. 

"That one is going to Mycroft," Sherlock said without missing a beat. John laughed and put the glittery invitation in Mycroft's envelope. It was already a stretch to get him to attend the party, and the glitter explosion of an invitation definitely won't help. 

"I really hope he comes, I know that you're parents will be gung ho about coming," John said. 

"I mean I don't have many other options for siblings. I mean E is you know.." Sherlock trailed off. He visits his sister every so often, bringing his violin. It is still a touchy subject to him, and how she almost killed his best friend. But she is his sister, and he loves her. 

"Hey, I'm sure that Mycroft will come." John lovingly rubbed on Sherlock's leg assuring him that his brother would be there. But he couldn't assure him that his sister would be there. Actually the last time Eurus was in this flat she blew it up. So hopefully she wouldn't be there. Now they can be sure, she can not get out. anymore. 

"Yes, but why are we inviting Harry? Isn't she back on the sauce?" Sherlock made a drinking gesture to his lips. 

"She says that she is clean and going to AA again." John said, his sister will most likely not come. She is probably drinking again. John refuses to accept this, obviously. Sherlock adds another flower and bee to his brother's invitation. He seals the envelope and laughs to himself, adding it to the pile. John straightened the pile of invitations and set them on the table to put in the mail, except for Mrs. Hudson who was getting hers in person. 

"Do you want to come with me to the post office?" John said to Rosie and Sherlock while he pulled her out of the high chair. Sherlock agreed to it and put on his coat. John put Rosie in her coat and Sherlock pulled out the Stroller. It was a short walk to the post office, but they would probably go for a longer stroll after that. John put his daughter in the stroller, handing her one of her toys and some juice. 

"Lets go Rosie! We're going to drop off Mrs. Hudson's invitation first." Sherlock said, pushing the stroller down the bumpy stairs. He stopped at her door and dropped the invitation in the letter box. They brought her down the rest of the stairs and out the door. Sherlock let one of his hands drop to his side. John saw his hint and held his hand. The taller man smiled and continued to push the stroller. Rosie sipped on her juice. John peeked into the stroller, she was sitting there with her sunglasses.

"Sherlock, did you put the glasses on her?" He was of course talking about her pink glasses that hang off the nose. They do not function as sunglasses as they are so tiny and sit on the bridge on the nose. Sherlock bought them for her a couple months ago. John rolled his eyes so hard when Sherlock showed him the glasses. Sometimes he puts them on her just for the laughs. John snapped out of his seriousness and began to laugh at the little girl sipping her juice with her little sunglasses. 

"You can admit that she is adorable in them." Sherlock said just as they arrived at the post office. John smiled and dropped the invitations in the mailbox. He high-fived Rosie as he made his way to the back of the stroller once again. Sherlock held his hand and turned the stroller around. 

"You want to go the long way?" Sherlock asked and John nodded, placing his head on Sherlock's shoulder. The continued to push the stroller down the roads, going the long way back to Baker Street. John was gazing into Sherlock's eyes, staring at how the blues twinkled in the morning light. He leaned in and kissed him. They enjoyed their little moment until a shout from across the sidewalk echoed. 

"FAGS!" A mans voice yelled. John was scared, Sherlock knew this. Slurs always made him scared. Sherlock held him in his arms. He hugged him tightly, soothing him. Sherlock thought for a moment that he could ignore the man, but he needed to give his boyfriend justice. 

"You know what, Fuck you. how dare you harass me and my boyfriend like this. We were just out mailing our daughters birthday party invitations. You, asshole, decided to ruin our outing by being a bigot. I think that John deserves an apology, look what you did to him."John was shaking in his arms. The man just scoffed and went off. 

"It's okay now, John. It will all be okay." Sherlock said, running his hands through John's hair. He peeked into the stroller, Rosie was asleep. Sherlock gave a thanks to the universe that she slept through that. Universe only knows how she did that. 

"She's asleep." Sherlock whispered to John. John wiped his eyes as they continued walking hand in hand until they returned to Baker Street. John was still shaken up from the incident prior. Sherlock told him to chill out for a bit while he put Rosie in her crib. He took off her jacket and carried her into the nursery. He laid her down and kissed her forehead. 

"Goodnight little one." He put the crib bars up and turned off the light. He closed the door and retreated to the living room with John. To his surprise, he was sitting in Sherlock's chair. He sat with him on the black chair. He ripped circles into John's back for a while, calming him. John climbed on Sherlock's lap, surprising him. He looked into Sherlocks ocean blues, licking his lips before attacking Sherlock's lips with his own. The curly haired man fell into the kiss like he was falling off Saint Barts all over again. When they finally pulled away Sherlock said in a voice out of breath, "What was that? Not that it was bad but.." 

"I love you." John said before kissing him again. Sherlock got the memo and picked him up, holding on to his thighs. He carried him to the bedroom, filling him with love. 


End file.
